


The Demon of Melodrama

by OrdinaryRealities



Series: O, Tiger's Heart Wrapped in a Woman's Hide [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A disproportionate amount of this is text-fic, Accidental epistolary fic?, Asexual Michele Crispino, Callout of Mickey's controlling abusive behavior, F/F, Isabella is getting a masters in Art History, M/M, Serious discussion of the Crispino twin dynamic, The Crispinos are retired, mention of injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryRealities/pseuds/OrdinaryRealities
Summary: Isabella runs into Mickey. He doesn't even recognize her, but somehow he still ends up texting her for advice.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This can totally be read without reading the rest of the series. Just know that Isabella and JJ got a divorce about a year ago.
> 
> Two big things and one 'on a lighter note':
> 
> 1\. As I have previously mentioned, I'm not ace. I am much more uncomfortable making Mickey ace than Phichit because, well, everyone likes Phichit and Michele is a misogynistic jerk. However, about halfway through I considered the idea that some of his commentary on the boys after his sister - and most of the commentary he gives us on his relationship with her, tbh - is less creepy and makes more sense if he's not experiencing sexual attraction and doesn't really understand why other people do or what that's like. I'm looking at that comment about the boys being hyenas in particular. (Honestly, though, I'm not wedded to it. If it's problematic for me to make him ace, let me know and I'll take it out. I just figured that most ace-rep I've seen is sex-repulsed, which is what I did with Phichit, and more diversity is better diversity, so I made him ace/sex-positive.)
> 
> 2\. None of this fic is in any way supposed to excuse or explain away Mickey's behavior in the show. Dude is super problematic and I only included him because Isabella deserves all the good things and that includes a happy ending even if I trashed her marriage to JJ. The two people in the show I have the most problems with are him and Georgi. They both creep me out. However, needs must. Here we are. 
> 
> 1\. (again). This whole fic has been such a strange experience for me. I set out to write a quick little one-shot Sara/Isabella with maybe a little background Mickey/Emil. Next thing I knew, Isabella was making friends with the creepier Crispino and I was like, women can be friends with men! I'm going to leave it in!
> 
> Then it became a texting-heavy fic. (I am so so sorry about the formatting. Single quotes (' ') is a text, double quotes (" ") is speaking). I'm still not sure how it happened. 
> 
> And then to top it off I got most of the way through and suddenly Michele was ace and becoming less of a douchebag. And here we are. I'm not quite done but I think I should finish within the next week or so unless work picks up much faster than expected.

It was one of those moments where the most surprising thing was how unsurprised she was. Isabella was just walking off-campus to catch the bus home when she – literally – ran into Michele Crispino. There was no reason for this feeling of inevitability, like she’d always have fallen back into JJ’s world. She still kept track of skating – she had been a fan first – and she blinked at the man. He and his sister were both retired. Then she came to her senses and scrambled to her feet, offering him a hand. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you alright, Mickey?”

He took the hand, squinting at her suspiciously. “Do I know you?” 

Isabella pouted. “Do you?” She gave him a look. “Apparently not. I’m Isabella, JJ’s ex.” They’d been at the same dinners at least a few times over the years. “Sort of medieval of you not to notice me just because I’m a gir- woman, wouldn’t you agree?” In the ten months since she and JJ had separated she’d lost a lot of what patience she’d had with men who thought they could boss women around. JJ had always treated her as an equal partner.

Michele sputtered. 

Isabella let him flounder a moment before offering him a lifeline. “How is your sister? And you guys were friends with Emil, right? Do you still keep in touch?” She didn’t ask about him and hoped he would notice.

His wince said he had. “Sara’s good. We’re both here to cheer on Emil, actually.” He met her eyes. “Come to dinner with us. As an apology, for not recognizing you. You were with JJ for years, there’s no excuse for not knowing who you are.” 

Isabella managed not to ask who had finally taught the man humility. Besides, she had still been with JJ when Mila had broken up with Sara over Mickey after worlds. The whole hotel had heard the shouting match between Crispino twins.

She wanted to say no – she didn’t need a pity invite from JJ’s skating crowd – but darn it, she had been a fan first. Instead of telling him that he didn’t need to apologize she found herself asking, “Just the three of you?” JJ would probably keep Otabek in, but Isabella didn’t want to accidentally ambush them. 

Michele nodded, looking too understanding. “Yeah, it will just be us. Any recommendations for a restaurant? None of us have ever been to Canada before and the hotel’s recommendations are always packed.”

Isabella smiled. “I’m sure I could come up with something.”

 

After the awkward exchanging of phone numbers came the equally awkward moment when they said good-bye and then both turned the same way to walk to the bus stop. When they got on the same bus, Isabella decided that there was no point in pretending that they didn’t see one another anymore. 

“So where are you off to?”

Michele shrugged. “Sara told me to get lost for a few hours.”

“And you listened?” Isabella winced. She hadn’t meant to sound that surprised. 

Michele, to her relief, laughed. It sounded forced, but still. “That’s fair. I’m trying. She said she’ll break ties with me altogether if I don’t, and I want to be here for her, so.” He bit his lip. 

Isabella nodded. “I still think you’re creepy, but I get that a little.” It had been tough when JJ texted her to say that he and Otabek were going public. Not because he had moved on – she had too – but JJ had been dating someone for nearly three months without telling her. Isabella chewed on her tongue. “It’s difficult, to feel like people don’t need you.”

Michele blinked at her. 

 

Isabella ended up showing him around her favorite park until it was dark out. She was still uncomfortable with him – no man who was that controlling ever felt safe – but she liked him more and more in spite of that. He stopped to watch the empty tree branches clacking in the wind and rescued someone’s notebook blowing towards the pond. He seemed more human than he had before and, well, Isabella had always liked Emil and Sara. 

“If you want something different, off the beaten path?” She looked at him. JJ had hated the restaurant, but it was her favorite place to go when she had a small triumph to celebrate. “I have a place.”

 

She half-expected the other three not to show. She had said good-bye to Michele soon after, going home to change and do some homework for a couple of hours; grad school waited for no one. When she showed up in the restaurant, the waitstaff started to lead her to her usual table without even questioning. She had to stop them, to admit that, actually, she was waiting for someone. (It wasn’t that she didn’t have friends. She did! It was just, even with effort from all parties involved, it was difficult to find a time to hang out when more than one of them was available.) She didn’t even have time to get properly nervous about it when she spotted Sara leading the way in. Emil still sported the same little tuft of facial hair, she noted. And Michele looked uncomfortable in spite of having walked around with her for hours earlier. 

The answer to that appeared before the others sat down. “You guys remember Isabella? We ran into each other earlier. And Isabella, you know Emil and Sara?” 

Michele didn’t look at Isabella as he added, “It was such a nice surprise.” He was talking a lot.

“I’m surprised you recognized her at all, Mickey.” Sara pulled her chair out and swept into it. “Mickey’s usually terrible at faces.”

Isabella blinked. Unless those faces had looked at his sister, she supposed. “Oh, no, and he was very nice too about me running into him. I knocked him right over.” Isabella pulled a face and waited until Sara had turned to fuss at her brother to raise an eyebrow at him.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella, Sara, and Mickey navigate watching Skate Canada. It's a little bit different for all of them this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of any heads up you all need this chapter except for a reminder that any and all accidental racism, transphobic language, etc, is not on purpose and if you let me know that it's an issue I will certainly do my best to fix it. Also a reminder that Mickey is not sweet, he is not cute, I dressed him up in semi-acceptable behaviors because I hope that he's matured in the six years since canon, but that shit he pulls with Sara in canon is never OK, and if someone tries that with you, you run the fuck away from that abusive asshole.

They made arrangements to meet again the following day. Isabella gave up the weekend’s homework for a lost cause and settled into her seat at the rink early the next day. Her phone buzzed soon after she settled in to watch the public practice. ‘It’s Sara’ read the first text. ‘Hope you don’t mind, JJ gave me your number.’ Isabella snorted as the dots started lining up for a third time. ‘If you text me when you get here we can get you back here with the rest of us.’

Even JJ had never snuck her backstage with the skaters.

Isabella hesitated. ‘You can do that?’ She wasn’t sure about this. Otabek was skating and she didn’t want to surprise him and throw him off his game. And JJ… It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see JJ. It was just so awkward, and it was easier to give each other a little space and pretend to some distance. 

“Found you.” Isabella jumped and Sara settled into the seat beside her. “You didn’t respond and I got bored, and then I saw JJ again and he said he’d seen you up here, so I came looking. I hope that’s alright.”

Isabella smiled at the other woman. “I was going to text you back. I was just watching,” she gestured out at the rink where Leo de la Iglesia was stepping smoothly through a complicated sequence. 

Sara half-turned. “Oh, Leo. He’s been having trouble with the end of the sequence, right about… here.” Sure enough, the man hitched a step, fumbling, but stayed on his feet. “Let me know if you’d rather I left you alone to watch the practice without commentary.”

Isabella could recognize a cue when she heard one. “Oh no, unless you’d rather go down and keep Mickey company.”

Mickey and Emil had just walked out together with Emil’s coach. Mickey’s shoulders were tense. Isabella would guess that he felt awkward about standing at the rail when he would have been getting on the ice too just a few months ago. She turned to Sara, who showed no signs of moving. “So what are you and Mickey up to, now that you’re retired? I didn’t get a chance to ask last night.” 

 

The previous night had been full of the sort of skating gossip that she and JJ had never been included in. Sara blamed her ex. “Mila was rinkmates with Yuri and Yuuri and Viktor, and she liked to know what was going on with everyone. We used to joke that she knew which of the ice dancers were hooking up with whom almost before they did.” Isabella had been indoctrinated into a long list of involved histories, from Viktor’s one night stand with Georgi (“You remember him, skated that terrifying program about his ex,” Sara had prompted, and Mickey had disagreed, prompting a digression about the difference between love and obsession for which Isabella, thanks to her new coursework, had real ideas to contribute. She did vaguely remember Georgi, but only as a man whose eyes looked like they had been lost in an eyeshadow desert.) to the fact that Viktor had run off to Japan without telling Yuuri he was coming – barely having bothered to inform Yakov – and the fact that Otabek and Plisetsky had never hooked up (“Not even once,” Isabella had asked, shocked, and Sara had assured her that Mila would have known).

 

Sara blinked at her. “Oh! Well, we’ve been doing ice shows. They like to see us perform together, but I don’t know how long I’m willing to keep it up. There’s a reason I chose not to go into ice dancing or pairs with Mickey.”

Isabella nodded, half her attention on the ice, where the mens singles were still carving circles in the ice. JJ lifted a hand at her from the edge of the ice as Otabek tilted his water bottle at her from the other side of the wall. She raised her hand in return and turned to focus on Sara. 

“Ice dancing and pairs make it to easy for him to be controlling?”

Sara blinked at her. “Oh… I suppose, but that wasn’t what I was worried about at the time… Maybe I did want some time to myself on the ice but. I’ve just. Honestly? I’ve always been better than he is.” Sara said all of this without lifting her eyes from the rink and Isabella rushed to think of the right thing to say, half of her brain still checking that, yes, every single year in the senior division Sara had ranked well above her brother.

“Oh. That’s… very pragmatic of you. I was expecting more existential angst after talking to Mickey yesterday.” Mickey had sounded like that single largest factor in their lives was and had always been the bond between them. In retrospect, Isabella shouldn’t have been surprised that Sara might have a different perspective. 

Sara snorted, and then they both jumped to their feet with a collective gasp as Emil tripped and fell hard coming out of a quad. He rolled up to his feet gingerly and slid around in a half circle before stopping by his coach. They both settled back slowly. 

“I hope he’s OK. He’s got a bronze already, and most of the real competition goes up against Plisetsky in America. Emil could have a real chance at the Grand Prix Final this year if he does well here.”

Isabella didn’t bother to disagree with Sara. Emil had never beaten Otabek and some of the new talent here was serious business, but if Sara wanted to believe that her friend had a chance, it wasn’t Isabella’s job to tell her otherwise.

 

On the contrary, Isabella yelled her support as loud as she could from where she sat between Sara and JJ as Emil glided onto the ice in his costume. Mickey, to Sara’s other side, looked pained. Otabek leaned in to whisper something in JJ’s ear. Isabella only had a moment to wonder, feeling out of place, before JJ leaned in to relay his boyfriend’s words.

“Otabek says Emil based this costume off of a couple of your friend Michele’s old costumes, mixed together. Sounds like Yu- like he’s trying to get someone’s attention, Katsuki-style.” 

Isabella snorted. If JJ had asked, she might have shared the information Sara had shared during the ice dancing routines, that Emil’s costume was actually based off of the same costume from her last year in Juniors that so many of Mickey’s were based on (his free skate costume was based off of Mickey’s from the same year) but JJ had already leaned back towards Otabek, reaching to catch his hand and lacing their fingers together. 

 

She was the one who cheered the loudest when Emil stumbled to his feet after he went down hard on his first quad, after he turned the second into a single and nearly went down again. The one who cheered again after he limped off the ice, having skipped the rest of his jumps entirely. Mickey and Sara were giving her incredulous looks from her right while JJ, to her left, was cheering hard and Otabek looked like he was recalculating. 

Sara leaned in. “He’ll never make it now. He can’t even think about adding jumps to his free like he used to, even assuming he’ll be in any shape to land them tomorrow.”

Isabella frowned, a little surprised at how strongly she felt about this when she barely knew Emil. “You always support him. Always. Win, lose. Otherwise what are you doing here anyway?” JJ tapped her shoulder with his in silent support. Otabek, beyond him, gave her a sharp nod, she assumed as approbation. 

Sara looked at Isabella like she hadn’t really noticed her before. “I guess Mickey and I have a lot to learn from you about sitting on this side of things.”

Isabella shrugged, uncomfortable for reasons she couldn’t even begin to parse. “It’s not that complicated. You’ll figure it out.”


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t long after the Grand Prix Final (Isabella roped her best friend from her Women Impressionists class into watching with her, staying up late and throwing popcorn at the screen as they streamed it, screaming aloud when JJ’s free skate score was higher than Plisetsky’s) that she got a text from Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took me a little bit longer... I'm still not really happy with this story and so I keep going back and second-guessing myself about various bits and pieces. Anyway, I think I've finally settled on what's going to happen and put something together that's not bad... We'll see what you think.

It wasn’t long after the Grand Prix Final (Isabella roped her best friend from her Women Impressionists class into watching with her, staying up late and throwing popcorn at the screen as they streamed it, screaming aloud when JJ’s free skate score was higher than Plisetsky’s) that she got a text from Mickey. 

She hadn’t (honestly) been expecting to ever hear from any of them again. Had thought that she would fade silently out of their lives again, having barely been in them.

Instead, at six o’clock in the evening (it must be midnight in Italy, if that was where he was) she received a text. ‘Isabella, sorry to bother you,’ it was sweet that he used punctuation, ‘but I saw this, thought you might be interested.’ It was an exhibit of Italian masters coming to Canada and Isabella had already gotten tickets for over spring break. 

It seemed to her that he wouldn’t have opened up contact if there wasn’t something more he wanted to say, so she offered him some interest after her thanks. ‘And how’s the ice show biz and u and Sara and Emil?’

The dots appeared and disappeared. ‘Ice show is good. Coming to Boston in June. Sara is good too. She broke up with a guy all on her own. I’m good.’

‘And Emil?’ It seemed that this might be the crux of the matter, since he had ignored it the first time.

‘He’s joining us tomorrow.’ And then, wonder of wonders, the dots began again with no prompting from her. ‘He gave up his career over that ankle. How do I support him?’

Isabella chewed her lip and chose to assume he meant to ask for best practices and not a demand about how he could possibly choose to support someone like that. ‘You could always ask him.’ ‘Failing that be nice. Like you would be for Sara’ ‘Just be there.’ ‘Be his friend.’

‘Thanks.’

She put the strange conversation mostly out of her mind and got on with spring semester. 

 

The night after the art exhibit, admitting to herself the slightest bit of curiosity, she sent a couple of pictures of her favorite Caravaggio paintings with a thank you and waited. A response came in a couple of minutes later. 

‘You went to see it!’

Isabella ducked her head. An enthusiastic Mickey was unexpectedly entertaining even over text.

‘Was it good?’

‘Very good’ ‘thanks for the heads up about it.’ For a minute she thought that was going to be all and found herself unaccountably disappointed by it. Then the dots started up again.

‘Can I ask you something if you promise not to laugh?’

‘Of course.’ And then, as an afterthought, ‘You can call too if you prefer.’ JJ’d had enough trouble saying things; she doubted he’d ever have been willing to write them down. 

Another text bubble popped up instead. ‘It’s better this way, I think.’

‘OK’ ‘shoot.’

The dots poured on and off the screen. ‘I’m worried about Emil. He hasn’t been eating enough. I’ve been holding doors and trying to take care of him like I would Sara, but I don’t think it’s enough.’

‘Did you try asking him? Or Sara?’ Isabella pulled up the schedule for their ice show. Paris, Berlin, Tokyo, Zurich. They were currently in Florence. She wasn’t willing to admit, even just to herself, just what combination of thoughts had led to her knowing the website address off by heart. ‘There’s nowhere near me where you’ll be for a while and some things are easier to figure out in person.’

‘Sara said to take my worrying somewhere else. I can’t ask Emil. What if it makes him angry?’

Isabella sighed. ‘I can try texting Sara.’

‘Would you??’

 

‘Sorry to bother you but your brother thinks Emil is starving himself because he misses competition,’ and she hesitated before adding, ‘I heard that you broke up with your boyfriend. Hope you’re ok.’

The reply came in a moment later. ‘I didn’t realize u and Mickey were so close. Tbh I thought he was after Emil’ ‘he’s been holding doors and everything.’

Isabella choked, from Sara’s assumptions or the difference between her texting and her brother’s, she wasn’t sure. ‘That may be my fault. I told him to treat Emil like he would you if he wanted to be there for him. And we aren’t. Just texted a couple of times. Mostly about Emil.’

‘Its good of u to be there for Emil from another continent.’

‘It seems tough enough on you guys when you retire on purpose. I have no reason to think the injury makes it easier.’

Isabella flipped back to her other conversation to tell Mickey, ‘I think you should ask Emil if you haven’t yet. Worst case he’ll think it’s a little odd but he’ll probably be touched that you’re worried even if it turns out you didn’t need to be.’ That done, she turned back to his sister. ‘Are you still going to be with the ice show in Boston or should I come to Europe if I want to see you skate again?’

‘I’ll be in Boston. Unless u want an excuse 2 come 2 Eu. I can get u free tickets…’

Isabella snorted. ‘I’m totally tempted but I have papers to write. Better to wait for June and Boston and the end of the semester.’

 

She got another text from Mickey by the end of the week. ‘have you seen these?’ It was the two monks meme. 

Isabella smirked, scrolling for her favorite, and sent it back to him. ‘One divorce is enough for the church of England.’

‘Wait, weren’t you and JJ Catholic?’

Isabella winced. ‘Yeah.’

‘Ouch. How did that work?’

‘I served the divorce papers. JJ got the church in the divorce.’

He sent her back a laughing emoji. Isabella wondered if it was the emoji or the commas that were unusual for him. Either way, she felt obscurely flattered. ‘Are you Catholic too?’

There was a pause. ‘More or less. There isn’t a lot of time to go to Mass if you’re trying to be one of the top figure skaters in the world. How did JJ manage?’

‘His parents were his coaches,’ she reminded him. ‘I’m pretty sure attending Mass was part of the contract.’ And changing the subject, ‘Did you talk to Emil yet?’

Nothing. Maybe he was texting Sara or Emil. (He must have other friends. He must. Probably.) Finally, he started typing just as her screen went dark. 

‘I did. Thank you for suggesting it. We came to some agreements.’ 

Isabella marveled at how short and to the point his sentences could look while obscuring everything interesting that he might say.

 

Sara texted her out of the blue the next morning with a quiz on Canada, its temperatures, cuisine, and public transportation. Isabella answered her questions and didn’t ask any of her own. Whatever Sara needed to know this for, it wasn’t Isabella’s place to ask. Probably. Definitely.

 

Mickey sent her pictures that evening of him and Emil. They had clearly roamed all over the city. There were pictures of them in parks and on a boat, getting coffee, eating lunch, in a museum, eating dinner. When picture after picture held no sign of Sara, she began to second-guess her dismissal of Sara’s assumption the other day. Maybe Mickey and Emil were more than friends. But then she wasn’t sure why she was getting pictures of their date.

She decided to start with something non-commital. ‘You guys look like you’re having fun.’

Mickey responded immediately. ‘Right? He said that he feels lonely now that he doesn’t compete; it’s harder to give back to your fans when you’re retired.’ 

Isabella had gotten used to the commas but a properly deployed semi-colon was another thing entirely. 

‘So I took him out just the two of us. He’s my best friend who isn’t related to me.’

‘That was really nice of you.’ Isabella might be dying to know what was really between Mickey and Emil, but he needed someone to tell him he’d done well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that, as someone who texts with proper grammar and punctuation, I'm not really the person to write a texting-heavy fic. I hope that my lack of familiarity with texting abreviations doesn't throw you out of the story too much...


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mickey tries some communication on for size. Isabella isn't quite prepared, but apparently Emil is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, any acephobia/transphobia/racism in this story is entirely accidental and if you please let me know I'd much rather fix it than otherwise.
> 
> I had to add another chapter but I am expecting to wrap it up somehow in chapter six. I won't have the time to make it longer, I don't think...

‘How can you tell the difference between being friends and dating? I mean, someone you love as a friend, where do you draw that line and decide that you’re interested in dating them or not?’ and in a separate message, as if he were unsure if it was an appropriate question (she wasn’t sure either) ‘You figured out that you and JJ were better off as friends.’

 

It had been a few weeks now of texts about the date-like activities that Mickey and Emil were doing together in every city they travelled through. Isabella had twice gotten texts from Sara as well with clandestine paparazzi-like stills of the two sharing an ice cream or an umbrella in the rain, and several more questions about Canada, everything from the national flower to rent prices to the relationship (or lack thereof) with the Indigenous population. She felt like she didn’t know Sara as well – there was an odd hesitant quality to their interactions that she never felt with Mickey – but something about Sara drew Isabella in until she thought that if Sara proposed something awful, banning ice skating or painting, she, Isabella, would jump to support the idea without even remembering to be horrified. 

 

‘JJ and I had a lot of big differences’ ‘It was getting in the way of our getting along but they were all lifestyle things’ ‘It was an easy choice in the end’ Isabella chewed her lip and tried to think about that boundary from the other side. ‘I think its like’ ‘Do you want to live together?’ ‘Spend the rest of your lives together?’ ‘Imagine their dirty socks on the floor next to the laundry basket again. Are you fond or annoyed?’ She sighed. ‘Assuming that you aren’t sex-repulsed are you interested in kissing them?’ ‘Do you catch yourself staring at the line of their back or their forearms or whatever body part u admire?’

Mickey’s dots were trickling into view. ‘I don’t find sex repulsive. I just don’t understand why people care so much about it. Or expend so much worry over having someone to do it with.’

Isabella blinked. ‘Have u considered the possibility that u might b ace?’

‘Yes.’ ‘But then how do I know if I care about Emil as a friend or a boyfriend?’ 

Isabella winced. ‘I’m no expert.’ ‘I think in that case it comes down to the dirty socks’ ‘Do you think u would b happier living with him or on your own?’

‘With him.’ He didn’t even hesitate. ‘But that could just be a friend thing, couldn’t it?’

Isabella began typing a reply. ‘I like living alone. I’d prefer that to my current housemates or even someone like you or Sara’ she stopped typing and stared at the words she had just typed and began backspacing. ‘I like living alone. I’d prefer that to my current housemates or even a friend like you’ That was better. She sent it. How had her crush on Sara strengthened so fast without any meaningful interaction? She scolded herself and added Sara back into a second text. ‘Or Sara.’ 

‘I’ve never liked being alone.’

‘For real? I always thought you were the biggest introvert’

‘I can like having friends around without wanting to waste my time with strangers.’

Isabella took a breath and returned to the original topic. ‘This may not be what u want to hear but I’d talk to Emil if I were you’ ‘Even if you’re not sure’ ‘he’s there and might have insights I don’t’ ‘Even if u decided u were just interested in something platonic’ ‘You’d still need to talk to him’

‘Right.’ And that was all. 

 

Isabella told herself that she was genuinely worried and it wasn’t just an excuse the next afternoon when, having still heard nothing from Mickey, she tried his sister.

‘Hey is Mickey OK? I haven’t heard from him and I’m worried’ ‘I think I might have offended him’

‘It’s probably nothing’ ‘He and Emil just got together’ ‘It’s sickening.’ 

Isabella was torn between amusement and annoyance. 

Her phone buzzed again before she could decide to send him a snotty text. ‘What did u say?’

‘That Emil is his best friend and he should try communicating with him.’ ‘Not in those words.’ 

‘Good for you’.

 

Isabella put her phone down and covered her face with her hands in the empty apartment. How had Mickey become a friend she was this close with, that she worried about his reactions? And how was this going to work if he found out she was crushing on his sister? She felt her stomach drop.

 

As if her newfound fears had somehow communicated themselves to Mickey, his next text didn’t even lead with his new relationship status. 

‘The hyenas are circling my sister again.’ A scowling emoji. ‘I know their intentions aren’t pure.’

Isabella took a deep breath before responding, trying to sort out her reactions and send the feminist ones, not the guilt-riddled version. ‘Maybe hers aren’t either’ ‘Your job is to support her’ ‘Not control her’.

‘How do I support her when I can’t stop worrying about her?!’

Isabella admired the non-regulation punctuation she’d earned for a moment before retorting, ‘You suck it up and tell me how it went with Emil instead’

‘I’m serious.’ ‘Isabella.’

‘Did I stutter?’ She only wondered after hitting send if that would make sense to a non-native English speaker. ‘I’m serious too. You support her and you don’t interfere or bother her about it unless she asks you to. That’s how it works.’ ‘So tell me about you and Emil if you want a distraction and if you want to waste your time pissing Sara off by trying to boss her around then go do that instead but don’t ask me to condone it.’

Mickey was silent for a long moment – she reminded herself again that people sometimes wandered away from their phone or the texting app on it in the middle of a conversation, although Mickey didn’t seem like the type – and then the dots recommenced. 

‘You’re right. I should trust you, you’ve been right so far.’

‘So you talked to him?’ She prompted, hoping to drag them off the topic of Sara altogether.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably chapter 5 will come tomorrow. Maybe even chapter six, depending how motivated I am about anything. But If not tomorrow than almost definitely next weekend. Probably.


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isabella and Sara get some interaction. (About time, right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I... Apparently, I had some things to work out about this relationship still... I hope you enjoy it.

Isabella wasn’t sure what she expected when she showed up in Boston, but it wasn’t Sara knocking at her door almost as soon as she’d checked in and dragging her out to a café before she’d even had a chance to grab her purse. 

She didn’t leave Isabella in suspense for very long. “Look, Mickey’s been dropping a lot of hints lately and… well, I think I have you to thank for the fact that he’s actually honestly backing off. I wanted to know if there was anything I can do for you, as a thank you.”

Isabella gave an uncomfortable shrug. 

“I’ve gotten a job. This is my last ice show, for now anyway.”

Isabella blinked at her. This conversation was going in a lot of different directions at once for only one person talking in it.

“I’ve been trying to learn some French. But I don’t know how useful it will be and the pronunciation is impossible…”

“I can try to help you. Although Quebecois isn’t always the easiest way to make yourself understood.”

“Do a lot of people in Canada speak English then?”

“Everywhere but Quebec. Wait, you’re moving to Canada? I just assumed you’d be staying in the EU.”

“I’m going to be a model for JJ’s clothing brand. I hope you won’t mind, you’re the only person I know in Canada, besides JJ, but he’s busy training, so I might be asking you some more questions. If that’s alright.”

Entire text chains suddenly made sense to Isabella. “Do you have a place yet?”

Sara wrinkled her nose. “JJ’s offered to put me up at his parents’ for now, until I find something.”

Isabella snorted. “You might prefer Mickey.” And then, impulsively, “You can stay with me until you find something, if you want. It’s little, but there’s a spare bed, and I don’t think I have any say in who you want to sleep with.” 

Sara snorted and then looked from her hands, laid along the edge of the table, to Isabella. “I don’t want to be a trope, so if we were going to live together, even temporarily, I’d want to make this clear first. I,” she bit her lip, “I’m really into you. I don’t know if it will last, we don’t really know each other, but. If you’re not interested, that’s cool.”

Isabella’s stomach twisted, because Mickey was her friend, but she could never date Sara if she was going to let Mickey’s opinion, real or imagined, have anything to do with this. “I’m really into you too.” She paused. “I think you should still look for your own place. You can still stay with me at first, of course. If this gets serious we can revisit moving in together, but it seems soon.”

Sara let out a breath. “Yes, please. But Isabella,” her eyes sparkled with a joke Isabella wasn’t in on. “Don’t let’s tell Mickey yet.”

Isabella swallowed. “Of course not, if you don’t want to. But if this is about sparing my friendship with him…”

“This is about me getting back at him for thinking he can run my life.”

“Any way I can help.”

 

It was mid-July and Sara had moved into her own apartment that day. Isabella was looking around her quiet apartment aimlessly when her phone buzzed. She thought it might be her girlfriend but it was Sara’s brother. 

‘Isabella, if I asked for a favor would you do it and not tell Sara I asked you to?’

‘That really depends on the favor Mickey.’

‘She needs someone reliable to date her. Someone like you who wouldn’t break her heart. Would you be willing to at least try a date with her?’

Isabella flipped over to her girlfriend’s thread and sent her a screenshot and a ‘please don’t kill him. I didn’t tell him I sent this to you’

They both wrote at once.

From Mickey, ‘Well, it was worth a shot. Sara got mad when I proposed it though.’

Sara replied, ‘Tell him you’ll give it a shot. We can send him awkward selfies. It’ll be amazing’.

Isabella wondered if he had meddled before or after they started dating. 

She hesitated and then typed back slowly. ‘I can try. I’m not making any promises. She may not even say yes’.

 

That weekend she met Sara for brunch and after fifteen minutes of Sara fidgeting with camera angles and awkward poses turned to her with a frown.

“Sara, when did Mickey try to tell you to date me?” She tried to keep her voice even but something in her tone must have given her away. Sara’s eyebrows drew together. 

“I don’t know. A couple of weeks after we started dating, maybe?” She paused, lowering Isabella’s phone. “Is everything OK, Izzy?”

Isabella clenched a fist under the table. “Mickey is my friend. He’s been nothing but a dick to you about your relationships, ever, but.” She drew a slow breath and tried to put her words together. “I don’t like feeling like I’ve gotten in the middle of a sibling spat. I should have told Mickey that it was none of his business, because it’s not, and either told him that we’ve been dating for six weeks because we don’t need his permission or continued to tell him that we’re just friends forever.” She loosened her fist, one joint at a time. “I’m not comfortable with this.”

Sara blinked at her. “Ok. We won’t do it then.” She swept her hair around, the way she did when she was hurt and trying not to show it. “I wouldn’t want to ask you to betray my brother that way.” Isabella reached to touch her, but Sara jerked away. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a minute.” Her voice was tight.

Isabella sighed, fiddling with her phone, and thanked the waitress as she set down their meals. She snapped a picture and then second-guessed herself. She half-stood to call the waitress back, thinking that this would be a conversation to have somewhere more private and then sat back down, afraid that Sara would see the boxes when she came back and get the wrong idea. She didn’t want to make this worse. She jumped when her phone buzzed, but it was just JJ with a costume idea for his next season. She was replying when Sara sat back down and demanded, “Cozying up with Mickey, are you?”

Isabella flinched. “Would you like to check through my phone, keep tabs on exactly what your brother and I have discussed?” She caught her girlfriend’s gaze and held it. “I know this must be a weird concept for you, but I’m actually texting JJ.” She tipped her phone so Sara could see. “I thought we could laugh at this sad excuse for a costume together. Otabek is sweet, but he and JJ have very different aesthetics and I don’t think it’s a good idea for JJ to borrow.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, dropping her phone, and caught the waitress glancing at them. “Maybe we should ask for this to go and have this out at home. Clearly we’re neither of us happy with it now.”

Sara swung to her feet. “Perfect. I’ll see you at your place then.” She stalked out, leaving Isabella to talk to the waitress and pay for their food.


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sara opened the conversation before the door closed behind Isabella.  
> “I’ve never had a lover who got along with Mickey.”  
> Isabella put the food down on the table and fiddled with her keys to avoid looking Sara in the eye. “Maybe if we told Mickey we’ve been dating you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, if I've said anything thoughtless here, it was accidental and if you would let me know so I can try to fix it I'd be much obliged. I'm dealing with some difficult stuff here about Sara and Mickey's relationship - note the changed tags - but as someone who has had my own brand of difficult relationship with family members, I'm less concerned about this than some of the other topics I've included. 
> 
> Yes, I did just change the chapter count to seven. I had an idea for an epilogue now, so... Sorry not sorry.

Sara opened the conversation before the door closed behind Isabella. 

“I’ve never had a lover who got along with Mickey.”

Isabella put the food down on the table and fiddled with her keys to avoid looking Sara in the eye. “Maybe if we told Mickey we’ve been dating you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.” A pause, and a breath. “Wait, can we start over for a minute? I probably should have brought this up earlier.” She breathed. It did no one any good to compare Sara to JJ in her head. JJ’s siblings had a completely different relationship with him. And her, for that matter. (Communication with JJ had never been this hard. They’d lived in each other’s pockets for years. They knew each other’s sore spots and tells.) “It was silly of me to think this would get better if I ignored it and that’s on me.” 

Sara was sprawled along the sofa with her hair hanging over the arm. She had yet to sit up and look at Isabella, which seemed like a bad sign.

“Look, he’s your brother. He’s been nothing but a dick, ever, about your relationships. But I’m the only friend he has who he isn’t related to or dating. I don’t mind hiding this from him if that’s what you want, but I’m his friend because I don’t take his crap. Lying to him, pretending we aren’t dating, pretending we’re pretending to date, whatever the fuck-” Isabella cut herself off and took a breath again. “I feel like I’m letting him think he can boss me around. It makes me feel like a bad friend and a bad feminist.” She glared at the back of the sofa. “Sorry if that makes me a bad girlfriend.” She could hear her bitterness.

Sara launched up from behind the back of the sofa like she was levitating. “He has nothing to do with this. This is you and me. I’m your girlfriend. Aren’t you supposed to put me first?” 

Isabella clenched her hands around the back of the chair and stared her girlfriend down. “No, I’m not. I’m supposed to put me first. Me, and then you, and then the rest of the world.” She paused and then, slowly, words like pouring honey from her mouth, “I’m here to hold you accountable too. If we can’t call each other out, who can?”

“So go ahead.” Sara’s words were clipped. She stalked up, close enough for Isabella to see the tears barely held back by her rage. “Call me out Isabella. Tell me what I’m doing wrong. Tell me how you’re going to fix my relationship with my brother.”

Isabella shook her head, her arms crossing themselves in front of her again. “I’m not here to get between you two. I already said that. But you’re better than this.” She took a step towards her girlfriend, lifting a hand towards her. “You’re better than this impulse to let him turn you into someone as petty as his worst behaviors.”

Sara jerked her head. “So now he’s an asshole too? Do you just hate my whole family? Maybe we should just get out of your way.” She grabbed her keys and flinched away from Isabella’s hand. “Don’t touch me!” He voice screeched in a way that made Isabella wonder if Mickey had ever physically held her still so they could continue a fight. “Don’t touch me, don’t come near me, don’t even call me.” 

The door closed.

 

The beginning of August was always hot and lifeless. All of Isabella’s friends were away for the summer, at home or doing research, and she couldn’t see texting JJ or Mickey about this. Definitely not Mickey, who had been silent the same five days that Sara had. Isabella half-suspected that she would never hear from either Crispino again, but she held out hope. They had never explicitly broken up. Sara didn’t seem like the sort to mince words if breaking up was what she wanted. Isabella walked down to the park and wandered along the path under the trees, watching the people dipping their toes in the pond. 

She lapped the park four times before she realized and turned for home decisively. If she was just going to trap herself into a circle outside of her apartment she might as well be home. 

 

For one wild moment she thought she had missed Sara. She recognized the long hair turning out of the drive and called out before she’d thought, desperate to stop the other woman walking away from her down the street. 

“Sara?” 

There was a voice behind her. “Looking for someone?” 

Isabella whirled to find Sara turning the corner behind her. She glanced back just long enough to identify the Sara look-alike as a neighbor and turned back to her girlfriend, letting out a breath. (It wasn’t a sob. Not even a little bit.)

“You know, I’ve never understood how you and Mickey could get along so well before. No, actually I take it back. I’m not sure he’s ever been that open about his emotions. That was a little bit more Georgi than Mickey. Maybe Viktor.”

“I can assure you I’m not Russian,” Isabella told her dryly, trying not to get her hopes up. She couldn’t go back to the way things were and bury this until it came up again.

Sara looked at her for a long moment. “Can we step inside? I’d rather not talk out here.”

Isabella led the way wordlessly, certain now that this was it. Sara had come back only to break up with her.

She turned from closing the door to find Sara hovering awkwardly. Isabella stood looking at her for another moment and then jerked a hand at the other half of the space. “Living room?”

Sara stepped through and glanced around. “My place looks like a hurricane compared to this.” 

The only thing that had driven Sara to disorder in Isabella’s apartment had been a week-long fight with Mickey. 

“Look, Isabella, I want to apologize first. You’re right, Mickey is your friend and I shouldn’t have asked you to pretend that… honestly, it was complicated enough that I wouldn’t even know how to express it, which should have been my first clue.” Isabella opened her mouth and Sara waved a hand to shush her. “Let me keep going now I’ve started, please. I have a couple of points I want to make and it will be embarrassing if I have to pull out my phone to find my place. You’ll get your turn.”

Isabella smiled, tentatively encouraged again.

“So I’m sorry about that, and I’m sorry for taking it personally when you got upset and attacking… Honestly, I got so mad I don’t even remember what I said. Will a blanket apology work for that? For my petty behavior?”

Isabella started to open her mouth, remembered she wasn’t supposed to talk, and nodded. Sara smiled.

“Thank you. And then about keeping our relationship secret.” She bit her lip. “Look, Isabella, I’m sorry, but I don’t regret that. You have a very different relationship with my brother than I do. He’s ruined every relationship he’s bulled his way into and I don’t think it’s just me letting him.” 

She glared defiantly at Isabella, who threw the stated rules out the window to admit, “I think that’s part of my apology. You don’t blame the victim, and I’ve been witness to Mickey’s bullying of you for years. I know it happens.”

Sara blinked, looking close to tears, but continued. “I honestly don’t see a way to make this work without shutting him out. If that’s a problem for you, maybe we’re better off as friends.”

Isabella glanced to check that it was her turn to speak before she began her part. “I owe you about fifty separate apologies for things I said about you and your brother, I think. I definitely remember calling you as bad as his worst bits, which is completely untrue and awful to say besides, even not believing it. I think I also equated telling him that we aren’t in a relationship to pretending that I was only dating you for him, and maybe I implied you were a bad feminist? All of which I apologize for. If you’re really honestly uncomfortable telling him about our relationship I won’t say a word. Honestly, I wasn’t kidding when I offered you my phone. Would it make you feel better to read through my texts? I never answer his questions about you. I always tell him to ask you and deflect to him and Emil. They’re thinking about getting a dog last I heard.” She closed her mouth with effort and waited.

Sara blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek. Isabella started to reach to wipe it off and then stopped herself and waited. Sara rubbed it away, looking annoyed at herself, and looked at Isabella. “I’m not going to be the person who demands to look through your phone. Honestly, I meant to not be the person who had to know what you were talking about with my brother at all…”

“It’s completely understandable that you’d rather keep track of exactly what he knows about you. If it wasn’t, I’d have felt OK about telling him that you were good, or busy or something when he asked.” Isabella squared her shoulders and swallowed. “But the other side of that coin is that I need you to tell me when he tries to meddle with us. If I hear about it from him several weeks later, that upsets me. I start wondering why you never said anything and if,” Isabella closed her eyes and fought back her own tears.

“No, you’re right. I should have said something at the time. I was so mad, and we’d only just started dating, and then I didn’t think it was that big of a deal… But I’ll keep it in mind and try to do better?” Sara smiled, her lips wavering. “I don’t want to do this if it’s going to make you uncomfortable. If you can’t hide it, we’ll… I can maybe live with the consequences of telling him.”

“Not until you’re sure you’re ready.” Isabella offered her hands out, palms up. “Sara, I shouldn’t have pushed. He’s not my brother, and I don’t have your history, and if this is the way that you’re most comfortable having things then I’ll continue to draw clear boundaries for him, because he’s not my brother, and maybe that power that I hold in my relationship with him will someday help him to understand that you should actually hold more power in your relationship with him too. And even if it doesn’t, he at least won’t find anything about you out from me.”

Sara slid a hand into Isabella’s and squeezed softly. “Just for a little while longer?”

“As long as you need.”


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Telling Mickey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit shorter than some of the other chapters, but... Just what it says on the box. It's just here to wrap things up.

It was almost ten months later that they told Mickey. Isabella had traveled with Sara to Thailand for the inaugural performances of Phichit Chulanont’s new ice show. It was a strange trip, giving her odd moments of a skewed version of déjà vu to competitions with JJ, like when they ran into Yuri Plisetsky in the lobby of the hotel, tall and smiling and herding three young Japanese girls. 

He gave her a wary nod and glanced around. “I think JJ went upstairs.” He bit his lip. “I. Look, if you two are sneaking around Otabek,”

Isabella sighed. “I was a fan first, you know.”

“Oh.” He dropped his gaze and earned a teasing phrase in Japanese from one of the girls and an elbow from another. He snapped something as a reply and Isabella jumped as an arm dropped across Isabella’s shoulder and squeezed. 

“Isabella-chan!”

Isabella turned and smiled broadly at the newcomer. “Kenjirou! It’s good to see you.”

She felt both of the men stiffen as her girlfriend walked up beside her. “Mickey’s by the stairs.” Sara bit her lip and Isabella, conscious of their audience, only wished that she could offer her a reassuring touch.

“You don’t have to do this, Sara.”

She vaguely caught Mila’s name in a fast Japanese sentence and Kenjirou’s nod towards the stair in reply. Sara’s ex was in Mickey’s path, kissing a Japanese woman, and Mickey looked like he was opening his mouth to say something thoughtless. A commotion at the door told Isabella where Mickey’s handler – boyfriend – was, but that did nothing for any of the situations that were about to happen. 

Isabella was concentrating so hard on her options, her response was on autopilot when Sara reached up and turned Isabella’s head down for a kiss. 

It certainly distracted Mickey effectively. Isabella wasn’t entirely certain how he’d gotten across the crowded floor that quickly. 

“Wha- Sara. Isabella!”

Isabella raised her head and turned slowly to Mickey, adrenaline making everything around her slow down even further. She caught sight of a weird expression on Plisetsky’s face as he and Kenjirou moved to flank her and Sara. Their three Japanese teens (they couldn’t possibly belong to Plisetsky and Kenjirou, but Isabella had trouble wrapping her head around the idea that someone might leave Plisetsky in charge of their children on purpose) had gone down to two, who were also clearly on Sara’s side here.

“Mickey?” Isabella raised an eyebrow and watched him splutter.

Sara’s hands tightened on her arms and Isabella ran a hand, soothing, across Sara’s back.

“You. You. How could you?”

Isabella raised a finger, the way she used to when correcting Major, her old dog. “I never lied. I told you I wouldn’t date her for you, and I told you to ask your sister.” He opened his mouth and she raised the finger higher. “If Sara didn’t feel comfortable telling you then maybe you should consider your reactions.” She tilted the finger so it was pointing at him and waited. 

Dimly registered clacking of heels coalesced into Plisetsky’s old ballet teacher standing beside them and looking formidable. Mickey took a step back. 

“Is there a problem?” Isabella knew that it was silly of her to feel like Russian accents were menacing. She’d never gotten over it though, between Bond villains and the Russian skaters she’d known. Oddly, Plisetsky was the only one who had never intimidated her, though she was sure he’d hated her far more honestly than the others.

“No ma’am.” Mickey swallowed but didn’t back down any further. The third girl slipped between Isabella and Kenjirou and whispered something in Japanese to the other two.

 

Things dissipated that morning but Mickey appeared next to Isabella in the evening, clearly not on his first drink. Isabella glanced around and saw to her relief that her girlfriend was being entertained by Mila and the Japanese women standing with her. 

“I trusted you.”

“Is that really how you think this conversation ought to open?”

Mickey was a belligerent drunk. “I said what I said.”

Isabella crossed her arms. “And I’m doing my best not to hurt your sister.” She closed her jaw tight until the follow-up accusation – why aren’t you? – slid back down her throat. “When she trusts you then we can revisit this conversation if you like. Sober.” She took a breath and tried a deflection. “In the meantime, I’m happy to hear about your dog if you want a distraction.”

“You aren’t worried that she’s talking to Mila?”

Isabella shrugged. She didn’t say that she’d rather Sara sleep with someone else than join this conversation right now. “You can talk about the dog or you can go talk to someone else. Your choice Mickey.”

Mickey shifted and then sighed. “I have a couple of pictures on my phone.”

 

Sara spoke into the back of Isabella’s neck as they lay in bed. “Do you think we should buy them lunch or something? Everyone from this morning? I’ve never even talked to Madame Baranovskaya, or the Nishigori girls, have you?”

Isabella snorted. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Do you usually go around buying food for everyone who sticks up for you against Mickey?” She rolled to face Sara as the thought hit her. “Oh my god, you do.” She didn’t bother making it sound like a question. “If I don’t let you buy food for them either are you going to ask all of them out? I think Kenjirou is gay. I don’t think he dates women. And the girls might be a little bit young for you.”

Sara shoved at her shoulders and giggled. “Shut up! No, of course not,” and she buried her face in Isabella’s shoulder and gave herself over to the giggles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. This is the end of the story and also probably the series. Almost definitely. Sorry for the gratuitous Yuri P cameo. I felt weird ending the series with a story he didn't appear in at all. I really liked the idea of the entire skating community coming together to tell Mickey he couldn't treat Sara that way and Isabella having it all under control already.
> 
> Edited for minor clarity issues. Re-reading, it looks kind of like Isabella and Sarah have a pretty open relationship. I didn't mean to write them that way, but now that I see it I don't want to get rid of it... If you want to imagine that they welcome another person into their relationship eventually, I'm certainly imagining it that way myself now.


End file.
